Comes in a standard jewel case with full artwork done by Brian Platter of Six Shot Studios. This is an extremely short run, and will not be reprinted! NOTE: I am experiencing a slight production delay, and these will be shipping out about a week later. I apologize for any inconvenience.
Includes unlimited streaming of Misnomer
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
Our patient struggles with the consequences of his shortcomings. He fades from the public eye, no one cares about his existence, and he considers giving up. Every time he thinks he's got something to break the cycle, it fails him, and he's back to square one. "An genius?". Err, no, that's not correct.
lyrics
This isn't working.
And people are starting to smell decay.
Only goal? Another chance.
This isn't working.
And people are starting to notice.
Mensa status? I fucking wish.
I've been falling towards rock bottom so fast, the ground is running, screaming in terror.
It doesn't have time to brace for the impact.
Fault lines formed, the earth shook, tides have shifted.
Scribbles on random post it notes, ramblings into a tape deck, half conscious ideas that fall asleep.
And nothing to show for it, oh no there ain't, there's nothing to show for it.
Not anymore.
Has it come to this, it's fucking come to this.
Oh holy fucking tits, so goddamn eloquent,
Fuck… it's come to this?
Yeah. It's come to this.
It's time for a change, yeah .
Let's mark, let's mark a new chapter in this horrible story, right before your eyes.
Wait, I've got this.
Dammit, I'm an genius!
Wait… that's not it.
I need my muse, need to be fixed,
or I'll fall, to disgrace, laughingstock, no saving face.
I've got to wake up.
I've got to start anew,
I've got to wake up right before your eyes.
Inorganic, out of place, and unnatural arrangements. Alien abductions. Being chased. The 1920s, 50s, and 80s. Narrow
hallways. Frenetics. Mood Swings. Skepticism. Cynicism. Solipsism. Pretentiousness, Raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens. Hives. It doesnt stop. It never. Stops. Constant fear. An onslaught of phobic phenomena....more
Quite possibly the most full-on album I've ever listened to. Intense, and then some. 'Digital Tarpit' could describe both the track and the whole album: high-pitched guitar squeals that make your fillings itch coupled with merciless, suffocating heaviness. The Avenell-esque vocals top it off perfectly.
Brilliant - punishing, but brilliant. jim_fuego